He Called My Name
by TropChop
Summary: He called my name, and I called back. A short reflection on the rule of envy and taking those close to you for granted.


He called my name, and I called back. A joke, some laughter, a happy moment shared. We were in love, fueled by it, and would have it no other way. Often times we talked, the quietness welcomed but the awkward silence not quite so. The topics, some heavier than others, often left us with the latter. One such was the topic of previous relationships, previous partners. It's not always fun discussing such things, but we preferred any noise to that dreaded uncomfortable silence. His pasts were riddled with desperation, anguish, despair, but mine not so much.

He talked and talked, telling stories of his misfortune. Being half asleep in bed, I could only half listen and hum along. When it came my turn, the roles switched. he laid drowsy whilst I told tales of my past. Upon the mentioning of a name, a recognizable one, he perked up and gave more attention. Telling of the wonderful times I had, I turn to see his face plagued with envy. He always was one to harbor a bit of jealousy. We decided then to fall asleep as to not stir up any unnecessary emotions.

The morning came, and the morning went, but the remnant of envy remained. They always did deep down. Peppy and Slippy came with a mission, a contract, in hand. More missionary work for the mercenaries. A quick job, a quick buck; We needed only to intercept a delivery. We talked and I said my thanks, Slippy walking off to ready the ships.

He called my name, and I called back. A question, some answers, a tense moment shared. He was in distress, consumed by it, and would respond in his own way. He talked to me, but he wasn't him. He was angry and a vent was needed. Being his partner, I stayed with him. We fought and left without words.

It was time and we were ready to leave. The crew and I, we climbed into our ships. We all made small talk, all except him and me. Without so much as a "Good luck", we took off. The ride was quiet and short; They were closer than we thought, and bigger. A whole fleet, a full squadron. Peppy, Slippy, and I, we wanted to forfeit and return. Falco wasn't as intimidated. His mind was occupied with no room for fear or rationality. He moved on despite our protests. I followed him.

We fought and fought, showing expertise from our wars. Our shields being half gone, I began to panic. We fought valiantly and took many lives, but there were so many, one wouldn't have even noticed. Our protection dispersing, we finally decided to retreat. Falco had it easy. He was on the edge of the battlefield alongside the others. But I, in my hysteria, unintentionally flew a bit deeper. I never was very good at handling my anxiety.

I was out of time and the others were leaving. The crew, they yelled from their ships, especially Falco. But it was too late, I started to feel the impact of every weapon on my ship. The wings broke off, the thrusters broke, the chassis collapsed. The others could only watch. I heard his voice in the midst of it all. "Fox, I-". The engine gave way, and with it went the power. I'm sure more was destroyed, but I couldn't say for I hit my head and was knocked out. By the time I woke up, they were all gone. The delivery, the crew, Falco, they were all out of sight. Perhaps they got captured, or shot down. Maybe they escaped and simply forgot where I was, or they did remember but I drifted too far off. Whatever the case was, I am alone now. My expression filled with despair, I began to think back and reminisce, hoping this was all just a dream, a nightmare to be woken from.

He called my name, but I couldn't call back. A fight, some panic, a tragic moment shared. We were in love, powered by it, and refused to give up. Often times we fought, the forgiving quiet welcomed but the intense silence not quite so. The topics, some heavier than others, often left us with the latter. One such was the topic of the future, and the fear of it. It's not always fun discussing such things, but we preferred any noise to that terrifying silence. His future was promised a life, a change of heart, a chance to say sorry, but mine not so much.


End file.
